


Nobody Does It Better

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: A Mystrade Playlist [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Massage, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: When nobody does it better age is immaterial.





	Nobody Does It Better

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, my first smutty fic posted here. Please be kind. 
> 
> I blame Heelofpatroclus for encouraging me to write smut. I blame Antheas_Blackberry for encouraging me to post this.

 

“Oh God… Oh, My, right there, right there… Fuck, that feels so good.” Greg moaned into the pillow as strong hands kneaded his flesh. He could smell traces of Mycroft’s face cream in the pillowcase as he sucked in a breath when a particularly tender spot was worked. A snicker cascaded down from above him. Greg growled, “It’s your brother that did this. Don’t laugh at me.”

 

“Certainly not, old man.” Mycroft replied from his perch on Greg’s towel-clad bum as he worked the tight muscles in his lover’s shoulders and neck.

 

“Oi! Who’re you calling old!” Greg struggled to sit up, only to have Mycroft press him back down.

 

“You, my decrepit detective inspector.” Mycroft grinned at the indignant squawk that remark provoked. He felt his lover’s back muscles bunch under his hands. Greg surged up and the younger man slipped to the side, soon finding himself pinned under his handsome bedmate.

 

“Decrepit, eh? Care to take that back?” Greg straddled his partner’s hips with his muscular thighs. The towel had fallen away and it was tossed aside. He leaned close to Mycroft’s face as he spoke. His lips hovered over the teasing smirk worn by the freckled face beneath him.

 

Mycroft’s tongue darted out to moisten his own lips; his blue eyes never leaving Greg’s chocolate brown ones. “Perhaps I misspoke.”

 

“Hmm?” Greg watched his lover’s pink tongue disappear and felt his prick start to thicken and throb. His hips gave a subtle rock against Mycroft’s pelvis.

 

“Ah… You don’t seem so decrepit now.” The rocking of the hips was answered with a more vigorous wriggle of the pelvis causing both men to hiss as their growing erections rubbed together. “You seem quite… virile,” Mycroft gasped. He pushed up just enough to capture his lover’s mouth with his own.

 

Greg pressed back and his lips parted allowing the kiss to deepen. He loved the feel of Mycroft’s tongue teasing and taunting in his mouth. “Jesus Christ, your tongue should be registered as a weapon,” Greg muttered as he pulled away. He laid his forehead on Mycroft’s collarbone feeling dizzy and breathless, then he slid his hands under his partner’s pajama top, pushing it up to caress the soft skin underneath.

 

“It already is,” Mycroft quipped. His hands, which had been stroking Greg’s back, wandered lower to curve over the older man’s firm arse.

 

“You better not be using it on anyone else.” Mycroft laughed and pressed down with his hands, grinding up with his hips. He felt Greg’s cock pulse against his own hardened member.

 

“Ahh… Fuck…” Greg groaned into Mycroft’s neck. He lifted his pelvis and began to work down Mycroft’s pajama bottoms. His partner assisted, canting his hips and kicking the clothing off once they got low enough. Greg repositioned himself so their erections lay side by side, pressed between their bodies. Mycroft could feel the dampness of their pre-cum on his skin.

 

Greg looked down at the younger man. Mycroft’s eyes were wide and dark with arousal. “It’s nice to know that this ‘old man’ can still get a rise out of you,” murmured Greg as he shifted his lower body to cause a little friction. Mycroft hummed in appreciation.

 

“What can I say? I have a fondness for antiques,” came the cheeky reply.

 

“You bastard.” Greg spat in his hand and reached between them to grip their taut pricks causing a sharp intake of breath from his lover. He swiped his thumb over the heads, smearing the pre-cum and using it to slick the swollen flesh. Knowing just how much pressure to apply and how fast to move, Greg watched as Mycroft arched his back and cried out. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own moans of pleasure back. He preferred to focus on the wild breathing and flushed face of the younger man. 

 

Mycroft thrust into Greg’s fist, his hands clenching his lover’s rear to assist the rhythm. Greg pumped them both, pausing only to collect more pre-cum. The position was hard to maintain and Greg’s other shoulder ached from bearing his weight as he hung over his eager lover. He stopped his ministrations to snake an arm under Mycroft. Whining at the pause in action the younger man quickly understood why and helped himself to be lifted into his lover’s lap.

 

“Who are you calling an antique?” Greg rasped as he slotted his hand between them taking hold of their engorged organs.

 

“No idea,” Mycroft panted. “Can’t remember… Oh… Sweet mother of… FUCK!” Greg had picked up where he had left off and leaned into the crook of his quivering partner’s neck, licking and sucking on a most sensitive spot. “Greg… Greg… Ohh, Greg… OH!”

 

Greg felt Mycroft’s upper body tense and his cock pulse. He looked down between them to see his lover’s cum spurt out. The sight pleased him. A few more strokes and Greg allowed himself his release. Mycroft’s arms tightened around the older man as he shuddered and moaned. Their cries and whimpers mingled together. Mycroft gently slid his hands up and down Greg’s back, petting and soothing and Greg relaxed his hold on their twitching cocks. His hand coated in ejaculate rested between them. The older man rested his cheek on Mycroft’s shoulder and the other mirrored the pose.

 

After a moment Greg reached behind him for the towel, groping fruitlessly. “I’ll get it,” Mycroft whispered. He rocked their bodies and with his longer reach he was able to snag the cloth. He pulled away and gently cleaned the majority of the sticky residue from their abdomens and chests. As he wiped Greg’s hand the older man rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. They both could hear little pops and cracks. Mycroft lifted his eyebrows.

 

“Don’t say it,” Greg warned in a low voice.

 

“Say what?” Mycroft was all innocence. He dropped the soiled towel to the floor.

 

“You know what.”

 

Mycroft, still in Greg’s lap, pulled the man close and kissed him. “You, my dear, like most fine things in this world, are timeless,” he murmured as he disengaged, looking deeply into the soft brown eyes of his lover.

 

Greg chuckled. “I think that was a sneaky way of saying I’m old.”

**Author's Note:**

> Nobody Does It Better by Carly Simon


End file.
